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Whaddaya Know, It’s Poetry Wednesday! Or Groundhog Day. You choose.

I want you to know, JennyO, I hesitated before using that exclamation mark in the title. But then I thought, what the hell. It’s Wednesday. Let’s shake things up.

Thanks to everyone who commented on the Billy Collins video/poem I shared on Monday. Doug from Oakland directed me to Taylor Mali and I loved his work so much that I wanted to share one more poem. Thanks, Doug, for introducing me to another smart, funny, wordsmith.

Who is your favorite poet? What’s your favorite poem? Do you write poetry? Did you?

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I love it! “…inviting you to join me on the bandwagon of my own uncertainty?…” had me laughing out loud.

I transcribe for a living, for what one would think are some very smart people…insurance reps, financial advisors, attorneys, corporate bigwigs. If I had a dollar for every “sort of” and “kind of” and every sentence that begins with “So,” I would be retired by now. I mean, we all say those things, and in the proper context, they’re useful. But if you’re going to discuss something with your CPA, you’re not going to “sort of” discuss it or “kind of” think about it. If you have an accident, you don’t “kind of” lose control and crash into the concrete barrier. But hey, they pay me by the word, so I log ALL the words, even if they’re superfluous and/or ridiculous.

Thanks for the laugh today. I love poetry, and yes, I have written some. Haven’t we all?

You know, I’m not sure I have a favorite poet. One of my favorites ever is the one my friend, GG, wrote and that I published here called, “Let Twilight Fall” (I think). Another one that has been meaningful to me for a long time is Robert Frost’s, “Bond and Free”
Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about-
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

On snow and sand and turn, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world’s embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be
But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius’ disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.

His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star.

That is beautiful … I will have to read it a few more times to gain some understanding beyond its beauty.

Do you know, until a couple of years ago, I thought if I didn’t understand something on the first read then it was over my head and inaccessible. Then I read a respected author’s statement that she had to read difficult things over and over until she understood them, and I realized I could do it that way, too. I wish I had realized it years ago.

Hi Jenny-was it Einstein that said it’s not that he’s so smart but that he sticks with things longer? Maybe that’s the secret. I know people who lead very simple lives. They aren’t that intellectually curious, always, but they love fiercely and they are glue in their families and communities. I think intellectual pursuits can sometimes be isolating. For me, the poem is a reminder that, in the end, love has a better return on investment.

I met this guy a few years ago. Terrific speaker and person! I love lots of poets: Margaret Atwood, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, bp nichol, William Carlos Williams, T.S. Eliot, Mary Oliver and many more but my absolute favourite is ee cummings.

Enjoyed this post very much, “Who is your favorite poet?” Good question. I have many favorites, but this being National Poetry Month (April) I wrote about 2 of my favorites, Emily Dickinson and Masaoka Shiki at “Trainride Of The Enigmas”.

Enjoyed this post very much. “Who is your favorite poet?” I have many favorites, but this being National Poetry Month (April) I wrote about 2 of them, Emily Dickinson and Masaoka Shiki at “Trainride Of The Enigmas”.

Hi Geo, I love Emily, too. One of my favorites starts, “If you were coming in the fall I’d brush the summer by” and it ends, “if certain when this life was through that yours and mine might be, I’d toss it yonder like a rind and taste eternity.” I was not introduced to Masaoka Shiki until I read your blog post.

Thank you, Chicken, for alerting me to this excellent address on Decima poetic form, born in Persian brothels to become part of our world’s art. Especially impressed by Jorje Drexler’s observation, “We’re all from nownere and we’re all from everywhere.”